


Somewhere to Begin

by missbecky



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Angst, Identity Porn, M/M, Pining, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2014-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-07 09:22:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1893759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missbecky/pseuds/missbecky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve's birthday is coming up, and Tony worries that he'll never find the perfect gift for him. Until he remembers something Steve recently said -- and then he knows exactly what to get him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somewhere to Begin

**Author's Note:**

> This is set shortly after the events of Iron Man #125 and Avengers #182. Many thanks to cosmic-error and vibraniumstark for their help and their comics knowledge. The title of this story comes from "Somewhere Only We Know" by Keane.

Everyone complained that it was hard to buy something for the man who already had everything. But that, Tony had decided, was just because they had never tried shopping for Captain America.

It was July 2, the clock was ticking, and Tony had no idea what to get Steve for his birthday. Normally he wasn't the kind of guy who remembered important dates like birthdays and anniversaries, but Steve's was kind of hard to forget.

Besides, it was _Steve._

He didn't know when he had fallen in love with Steve. There wasn't a single moment that he could point to and say _this is it, this is when it happened._ It seemed like he had always loved him, right from that first moment when the Avengers had found him in the ice. 

In the months since then, they had become good friends. Some of the best times of his life were those evenings when he and Steve sat together after another Avengers adventure, just talking for hours. Things seemed so clear then; when he was with Steve, the world made sense in a way that defied logic. And afterward, when Steve had gone up to bed and Tony was alone once more, it always took a few minutes for things to start to feel normal again.

Of course, there was just one problem.

All those times they sat around talking, all the adventures they had shared – they didn't belong to Tony. They belonged to Iron Man.

And Steve didn't know that Tony Stark was Iron Man.

Now it was almost Steve's birthday, and not only was he faced with the challenge of finding just the right gift, but that gift had to come from Tony Stark. Maybe it was stupid, but he didn't want Iron Man to steal his thunder. He wanted the perfect present, one that would make Steve's eyes light up as he smiled with happiness. He wanted it to mean something, to let Steve know how important he was. And maybe, just maybe, to give Steve pause, so that he would look at Tony and for once see not just the Avengers' benefactor, but an actual person. A person who was deeply, hopelessly, in love with him.

Or then again, maybe he was just dreaming about something that would never happen.

But Tony had gotten pretty far on dreams over the years, turning an awful lot of them into solid reality. Iron Man himself wouldn't exist if he didn't have the ability to take what was in his head and turn it into fact.

So this could happen. It really could.

If only he could find the right gift…

****

The circle of people who knew that Tony Stark and Iron Man were one and the same was pretty small, which meant that there was really only one person he could turn to for advice. Thankfully, it was the same person he would have gone to anyway.

"…so I can't get him clothes. And Iron Man is getting him a sketchpad and charcoals." Only Iron Man had seen Steve's drawings up close enough to see what brand he used. Tony Stark didn't even know that Steve enjoyed art.

"And he won't buy books. He says libraries are good enough for him. I can't upgrade his costume or his motorcycle any further, and the shield is already perfect. So what does that leave?" Tony sighed and stared morosely down at his empty glass. He was drinking iced tea, but he couldn't lie to himself; what he really wanted was some whiskey.

"Well," Rhodey said slowly, "it sounds like you've given this a lot of thought."

"I have," Tony said. "Believe me, I have." He sloshed the remaining two drops of iced tea around in his glass. "It's two days until his birthday, and all I can think of are things _not_ to get him."

"Well, maybe that's your problem," Rhodey said. "You're trying to think of things to buy."

Tony looked up. He had the oddest feeling that he had just been scolded. "What is that supposed to mean?" It sounded a little more defensive than he had intended, and he knew he had completely missed the mark when he saw Rhodey shake his head ever so slightly.

"All I'm saying," Rhodey said, his patience fraying somewhat, "is that maybe you should stop worrying about what to buy for him, and just ask yourself what Steve would like. You know the man probably better than anyone. So what does he _want_?"

Tony just shook his head. He had spent days brooding over that question, and he was still no closer to finding the answer.

Rhodey stood up to go. "Don't worry," he said. "You're the smartest guy I know. I bet you'll come up with something in no time."

"No bet," Tony said.

He had a sinking feeling that was one wager he would lose.

****

On the surface, Rhodey's advice was sound. But Tony had no idea how to actually put it into practice. Iron Man probably could have come right out and asked Steve what he wanted, but it just felt wrong, in a way Tony couldn't really explain. He wanted to come up with the idea for his gift on his own. He didn't know why it was so important that he do it that way. He only knew that anything else would feel like cheating, and cheapen that gift – whatever it might end up being.

Still, he tried to think of what Steve wanted. He really did. And for a few hours on the morning of July 3rd, he even thought he had finally found the perfect gift. He would bring Steve down here while he was in the armor, and then he would take off the helmet and reveal his secret identity.

There was a certain amount of appeal to that idea. The more he got to know Steve, and the more he fell in love with him, the more guilty he felt about keeping his secret. Someday, sooner or later, Steve would find out the truth. And what would he say then? Steve valued trust and loyalty. How would he feel to know that one of his closest friends had been lying to him all this time? Steve wasn't the type to hold a grudge and he wouldn't do anything as childish as cutting Tony out of his life, but still, things would never be the same between them. The lie would always be there.

Yes, he decided. He would do it.

An hour later, though, he was starting to seriously question the wisdom of that decision. And by the time noon arrived, he knew he couldn't do it. Telling Steve on his birthday would make a mockery out of the day and its meaning. This was supposed to be Steve's day. He couldn't make it all about himself.

Tony sighed. He should have told the truth the last time he had felt this temptation. It hadn't even been all that long ago. Only a couple of weeks had passed since that fiasco when Iron Man had been framed for murdering a UN ambassador. After turning over a stripped-down armor to City Hall, he had gone to Steve to ask for his help in learning valuable hand-to-hand combat techniques. His excuse had been that without Iron Man to act as his bodyguard, he needed to know these things himself, when in actuality he had only wanted to be ready for his own mission to find out who had done this to him.

He still remembered every moment of that afternoon in the gym. Every throw, every hold, every time Steve had taken his hand and helped him up off the mat. He had felt closer to Steve than ever before. Some of that had been the sheer physicality of what they were doing, the close quarters and the touching that could have been intimate under different circumstances.

But most of that feeling of closeness had come from Steve himself, and his generosity in reaching out to the man he believed was his benefactor. It was the perfect example of Steve's good heart, and the way he never stopped wanting to help people. And when the lessons were over, Steve had smiled at him, brushed aside his thank-you, and said, "Mr. Stark, when I woke up in this era, I had no one. Nothing. You gave me a purpose, somewhere to belong. You gave me a home."

Full of a helpless love and admiration that he could never express out loud, Tony had let Steve pull him to his feet. And because he hadn't been able to think of anything suitably appropriate to say in return, all he had said was, "Cap… Call me Tony."

Since then there had been less formality between them, although Tony wasn't sure if he could call it true friendship yet. But it was somewhere to begin. It was a start.

A good start.

But all that had been weeks ago. Steve's birthday was tomorrow, and Tony still didn't know what to get him. 

He wondered where Steve was right now; it was still early afternoon, which meant he was probably in the mansion. He was one of the few Avengers who lived here full-time, and unless he had a prior engagement, he was almost always floating around here somewhere.

 _Maybe I should just ask him_ , Tony thought for the hundredth time. _Maybe –_

And suddenly he knew – and he nearly laughed out loud.

God, he was such an idiot. He already _knew_ what Steve wanted. Steve had said it himself. He just hadn't been listening.

And chalk one up for Rhodey. He had hit the nail right on the head, as usual. What Steve really wanted wasn't something that could be purchased, or boxed up, or even held in one hand. Tony wasn't even sure it _could_ be given to anyone.

But he was going to try his best anyway.

****

The 4th of July dawned hot and sunny. It was the perfect day for a barbecue beside the pool – which was exactly what the Avengers had planned, provided no surprise supervillain attack came along to ruin everything. Hank McCoy was grilling, Jan had brought her famous potato salad, and Carol had made a cake with strawberries and blueberries that probably wouldn't survive for long, judging by the way everyone was stealing berries off it when they thought she wasn't looking.

A few Avengers had already given Steve their birthday presents. Iron Man would come on the scene later, offering the gift-wrapped box containing a new sketch pad and charcoals. Tony didn't like to come too early to gatherings where there was food involved; there was always some level of awkwardness over the fact that he couldn't really eat around anyone. Most times he left those events feeling hungry and frustrated, almost wishing he was brave enough to take off the helmet and reveal himself to them all.

But not today.

Today, Tony Stark supposedly had a meeting across town which meant he couldn't attend the barbecue. But before he left, he had a more private meeting to attend.

He wandered onto the patio, feeling out of place in his shirt and tie and carefully pressed trousers. Everyone else who was already here was either in a swimsuit or casual clothes, displaying some unfortunate tan lines in more than a couple cases. They all smiled and said hello, but he got the distinct feeling that he was cramping their style.

He didn't linger with anyone, although he did let Jan talk to him for a few minutes about the fundraising auction her favorite charity was hosting next month. It was hard to pay attention, though – he kept being distracted by the sight of Steve standing next to Hank at the grill.

Steve was dressed casually, too, in a white T-shirt and jeans. There was a blue star on the front of the T-shirt, the fabric stretched just a little too thin over his muscular chest and shoulders. He was holding a can of soda, sipping from it occasionally as he chatted with Hank. The summer breeze ruffled his hair, which was starting to get a little long. Tony liked it that way; he wished Steve would let his hair grow out more often.

"Cap, you coming in?" Sam called from where he floated in the pool. "The water feels great."

"Just a sec," Steve said, holding up one finger.

Tony's heart skipped a beat. Once Steve got in the pool, it would be all but impossible to get him away from everybody for a private talk.

"…Tony? Tony, are you even listening to me?"

Jolted out of his reverie, he turned back to Jan. She was staring at him, her head cocked slightly to one side, an all-too knowing look on her face.

"Of course I was listening," he said, pouring on the charm. He leaned in to kiss her cheek. "Go ahead and set it up. You know I'll be there. Gotta go. I have a meeting." He made a gesture over his shoulder, hoped like hell that he hadn't just agreed to sit in a dunk tank for charity or something like that, and practically trotted over toward the grill.

Steve and Hank both looked up as he came over. They smiled at him, Steve with considerably more warmth than he had shown in the past. "Hi, Tony."

"Steve." He smiled back, unable to stop himself. There was just something about Steve's smile and the way it lit up his entire face. Those smiles came far too rarely for Tony's liking, and he made a vow to himself, right then and there, to do everything he could to change that.

"What can I do for you?" Steve asked, and Tony's smile faltered. Despite the familiar greeting, there was still too much professional courtesy between them. It made him wonder suddenly if he was doing the right thing, if he wasn't presuming far too much with his gift.

But there was only one way to find out.

"I wanted to wish you a happy birthday," he said. "I have a meeting uptown, so I won't be able to stay for the barbecue, I'm afraid."

"Thank you," Steve said. "And I'm sorry to hear that." His disappointment seemed genuine enough, especially when measured against Hank's too-late murmur of agreement.

"Once I'm there, though, I'm giving Iron Man the day off so he can join the party," Tony said. "He can tell me about it later." He smiled as though he wanted nothing more than to hear all about the barbecue and the pool party and the fireworks secondhand from his bodyguard. "But I was wondering if you had a moment?"

Steve did not hesitate. "Sure," he said. He handed his soda to Hank, who took it reflexively, only to scowl a second later as he realized what he had done.

Already Steve was walking toward the house. "What did you want to see me about?"

Tony opened the door and stood back so Steve could go inside first. He shut the door behind him and stood still for a moment while his eyes adjusted to the light that seemed so dim compared to the brilliant sunshine. He could hear voices coming from a hallway as Wanda and Vision laughed together over something. Just ahead, Jarvis was headed for the kitchen, carrying two empty trays that he would bring outside later, loaded to the brim with food and drink. He disappeared around the corner, and Tony looked back at Steve.

"I, uh, I had something I wanted to give you," he said. He smiled a little. "After all, it is your birthday."

Steve looked almost flustered. "It is," he said. "But I… You didn't have to…" He cleared his throat and squared his shoulders. "Thank you, Tony," he said, his tone carefully controlled. "I appreciate you thinking about me. I know how busy you are."

"Never too busy for you," Tony said – and immediately regretted it when he saw Steve's eyes widen. To cover his colossal mistake, he started to walk down the hall. "It's in the armory," he said.

"Must be something pretty big," Steve joked. He didn't sound like he found it all that funny, but he was making an effort to move past Tony's stupid confession, and that couldn't be ignored.

"Oh, no, you don't," Tony said. He did his best to keep his voice light and casual. "Trying to get me to reveal my secrets? I'm on to you, Cap."

"That's right," Steve said, doggedly seeing the joke through to its conclusion. "You found me out."

They rode the elevator down to the armory in a silence that was thick with tension. Tony stared at the polished wall and decided that his very next project would be to find a way to make this thing run faster so the duration of this kind of awkward descent could be cut in half. He was immensely aware of the small space around him, and the precise spot where Steve was standing. The walls were buffed to such a high gloss that he could see Steve's reflection, all blond hair and blue eyes, and that white shirt with the blue star. He was so aware of Steve's presence that without even looking, he could measure the distance between them in inches, centimeters, and Planck lengths – all at the same time.

Then the elevator stopped and they were there. Tony stepped gratefully into the armory, and breathed in deep.

Instantly he felt better. Avengers Mansion was technically his home, but here, where he designed and built and created, here was where he belonged. Some of the tightness in his chest eased up, and he became convinced again that he was doing the right thing.

But he didn't want Steve to see his gift just yet, so he stopped walking and turned around – only to feel a bit of a jolt upon realizing how close Steve had been following him. Across the short distance separating them, Steve's eyes were vividly blue.

Steve looked back at him, expectant and yet with an unfamiliar shading of nervousness on his face. It wasn't something Tony saw from him very often – or ever, if he was being honest. He tried very hard not to ask himself why he should see it now, and instead focused on the reason he had brought Steve down here in the first place.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking," he said. "Trying to figure out what to get you for your birthday. You're not an easy man to shop for, Steve Rogers. Everyone always complains that it's hard to shop for someone like me, who already has everything. But you… This was a challenge."

Steve glanced down. "You really didn't have to get me anything," he said quietly.

"I know," Tony said. "And in the end, I didn't."

A frown of confusion appeared between Steve's brows. He looked up. "You didn't?"

Tony shook his head. "Nope." And he stepped aside so Steve could see the object resting on the work table behind him.

Slowly, Steve approached the table. He hesitated when he saw what lay there, and looked at Tony questioningly.

Tony nodded.

Clearly bewildered, Steve went up to the table. He picked up the sledgehammer, hefting it easily with one hand. The red, white and blue ribbon tied to the handle dangled down to drape over his fingers. He stared down at it for a long moment, then he looked back at Tony. "Okay," he said. "I don't get it. Is this supposed to be my Mjolnir?"

Ever since conceiving of this idea, Tony had been practicing what he would say when Steve asked him what he had been thinking to give him a sledgehammer as a birthday present. But Steve's question, honestly confused and just the slightest bit edgy, made him forget everything he had been planning to say. "No!" he blurted. "That's not… I didn't mean it that way, Steve, I swear."

Steve relaxed, but he still held the hammer in a tight grip. "Okay, so how _did_ you mean it?"

"You said," Tony started. He stopped and breathed in deep. He had wanted to get this just right, and already he had managed to screw it all up. But this was no time for slick speeches and rehearsed words. He had to be honest now.

"The day you gave me those fighting lessons. You said I gave you a home," he said. "But I didn't. Not really. I just gave you a room in my house. And that's not… that's not a home. At least it shouldn't be." 

Steve's eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't interrupt. Not yet, at least.

"You shouldn't be content with living in a spare room I just happened to have available in my enormous, dusty mansion," Tony said. He damned himself for the bitterness that crept into his voice in spite of his best efforts. "And it kind of bothers me that you are. You deserve so much more than that, Steve. You're _worth_ more than that."

He gestured to the sledgehammer. "So that's for you. Tear down the walls of that room. And let's rebuild it. Make it into something _you_ want. Make it your home. For real."

Sudden comprehension flooded Steve's eyes. That, and something else Tony couldn't name, something that made him hurry to finish speaking before Steve could stop him. "Whatever you need to make it happen, it's yours. Just say the word and I'll get it for you. Anything you want." He smiled even as he wondered frantically why his chest hurt so much, why it was so hard to get the words out. 

"Tony. I…" Steve seemed too stunned to speak at first. That nameless emotion still brimmed in his eyes, and in horror Tony suddenly realized that he had nearly made Captain America cry.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I know it's a stupid idea, and I shouldn't've done it. I'm sorry, I'll just take it back and we can start over. I can—"

"No," Steve said. He spoke quietly, but with an unmistakable aura of command.

"No," Tony repeated.

Steve looked down at the sledgehammer with its silly ribbon, then back up at him. Then he smiled. "I think it's great," he said. "I didn't understand at first, but—" He stopped and bent his head a little as he looked away.

"So you're okay?" Tony asked carefully. He was still convinced that he had just done something terrible, he had ruined Steve's birthday, he had ruined everything.

Steve nodded. He looked up, and if he had been close to crying before, there was thankfully no sign of it now. "No one's ever done anything like that for me before," he said. "I really don't know what to say, except thank you. Thank you so much."

"People should," Tony said without thinking.

"People should what?" Steve asked.

 _People should do things like that for you_ , Tony thought, but there was no way he could say that out loud.

No other response came to him, though. He felt helpless beneath the weight of Steve's gaze. He would do anything to take away the sadness lurking in Steve's eyes. Anything to make Steve smile more often. As Iron Man he could sometimes get Steve to talk about the past, his adventures during the war or his childhood in the city. He thought that helped a little, that it made Steve feel better to have someone to talk to, even if he couldn't completely understand everything Steve spoke about. Sometimes it was enough just to have someone sitting there beside you, listening quietly.

But that was Iron Man. He wanted to do something as Tony Stark. He wanted there to be no more masks between them. No more deceptions and secrets.

He took a deep breath. "Steve, there's something—"

A shrill alarm cut him off cleanly. They both jumped in surprise. Steve reached for his pocket and withdrew his Avengers card.

"Food's ready! Come and get it!" Hank said cheerily, his voice rendered electronic by the card's comm. "Avengers assemble!"

For a moment they just stood there, staring stupidly at Steve's card. Then Tony shook his head. "Tell Hank he's fired."

"With pleasure," Steve said with a wry smile. He shoved the card back in his pocket.

They looked at each other, but it was okay now. The heavy tension had lifted. The urge to confess had receded, and Tony was no longer worried about the appropriateness of his gift. "You should go," he said. "And I have that meeting."

"Right," Steve said. He set the sledgehammer back down on the table. "Can I leave this here?" he asked. "For now?"

"Sure," Tony said. "The armory's open to you any time you need it." He had already made sure of that, giving Steve his own password months ago. "And remember what I said. Anything you need, you just let me know."

"I will," Steve said. "And thank you again, Tony."

It was hard to tell who initiated it – Steve sort of moved in at the same time Tony raised his hand. He was only thinking about touching the hammer and that dumb ribbon, but Steve misinterpreted and Tony's heart leapt in his chest, and then they were suddenly hugging.

Tony froze. He didn't move at all as Steve murmured, "Thank you." Every fiber of his body was strung taut, thrumming with energy and alive with sensation. He could hear the sound of Steve's breathing and smell the clean scent of his soap. The warmth of Steve's body flooded his own, thawing the sudden terror that had made him freeze up. He relaxed into the embrace, and hugged Steve back.

He wished he could commit this moment to memory forever, the first time he ever hugged Steve Rogers without the armor in between them. He wanted it to go on forever, just the two of them, Steve's heart beating against his own, Steve's arms holding him close. If he turned his head just a little bit to the left, and Steve turned to his right, they could…

Steve let go of him and stepped back. "Sorry," he said. "Got a little carried away."

Tony just stood there. He felt utterly bereft without Steve's touch, and oh God, he was in too deep, he was never going to stop thinking about this, never going to stop wishing that he had gone ahead and done it, that he had kissed Steve.

He forced himself to smile, as though his heart wasn't breaking for that lost opportunity. It didn't feel right on his face, but it must have looked okay after all, because Steve didn't seem alarmed by it. "No worries," he said. He swallowed hard. "You go on ahead," he said. "I've got a couple things I want to finish up here before I leave for my meeting."

"Okay," Steve said. He hesitated for a moment, like he wanted to say something else, then he headed for the elevator. He pushed the button and the doors slid open. He stepped inside and for a moment he stood there, framed by the silver doors. Even at this distance, his eyes were amazingly clear and bright.

Then the doors closed, and he was gone from sight.

Tony exhaled deeply and let his shoulders slump. It hadn't gone as badly as he had feared, but he knew he could have handled it a lot better. He had come too close to revealing everything – not just his identity as Iron Man, but the true depth of his feelings for Steve. What he needed to do now was step back a little and let some of the formality return to their relationship.

It would be the best thing for everyone.

But he found that he couldn't bear the thought of doing that. Of going back to being "Mr. Stark." It was selfish, but he wanted Steve to think of him, of Tony Stark, as a friend. He wanted to be the one who got to spend time with Steve when they weren't out there saving the world.

At least Iron Man would still get to be with Steve. It wouldn't be the same, and he would never stop wishing he could be himself around Steve, but he wouldn't give up those hours they spent together for anything. And in the long run, what difference did it make whether it was Iron Man or Tony Stark who made Steve smile?

Just as long as Steve smiled.

He blew out his breath and let his fingers trace over the ribbon he had tied to the sledgehammer's handle. He hoped Steve would let him participate in the renovations of his room. He hoped he would be able to bring in books of paint squares and carpet samples. He hoped he would get to take Steve out to look at furniture and mattresses and whatever else he might need.

He rather doubted it, though. It made for a nice fantasy, but that was all. Steve wasn't exactly the kind of guy to spend hours picking out a new set of sheets.

 _Neither are you, Stark_ , he thought wryly.

But for Steve he would do it, and happily. Whatever it took to bring those rare smiles to Steve's face and make his eyes light up.

He would let Steve make the next move – but if that hammer was still here in a week, he would find a way to say something about it. It would be the perfect line, too. Casual, yet with enough weight that Steve would know he was serious. He would ask if Steve had given any more thought to what they had discussed, and what he could do to help.

And after that? Well, there were any number of possible options, and most of them looked positive. After all, Steve had hugged him. He could still mourn the lost chance for a kiss, but he had the memories of that wonderful embrace now, and no matter what happened between them in the future, he would never forget the way it had felt to hold Steve and be held in return.

And maybe next time – because there would be a next time, he was certain of it – maybe then they could talk a little, the way they did when he was in the armor. Maybe he could coax Steve into talking about his past, and joke with him and get him to smile.

Maybe one day they would even hug again, and he would find the courage to put his feelings into words. Or maybe he would be even more bold, and turn his head that half-inch and give Steve a quick kiss.

Tony smiled a little to himself. In his line of work, he was always looking ahead and seeing amazing things, but rarely had he seen a future so full of promise.

He let the ribbon trail through his fingers one last time. "Happy Birthday, Steve," he said quietly. Then he turned around and headed for the elevator. He had a fake meeting to get to.

And Iron Man had a birthday party to attend.

******


End file.
